Philip Henslowe Research Articles

Staged Properties in Early Modern Drama (review)

Reviews451 Jonathan Gil Harris and Natasha Korda, eds. Staged Properties in EarlyModern Drama, . Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Pp. 358. $75.00 casebound. This fascinatinganthologyrepresents the confluence oftwo developments,one acknowledged, the other implicit, but still a significant "shaping presence" in the essays.The first is the interest in things rather than people.Inthe 1980s and 1990s, in reaction to the earlier glorification of the "Renaissance Man," early modern studies turned the subject into a problem, producing a series offascinating books and articles on the construction ofsubjectivity and interiority in Elizabethan and Stuart England (for example, Elizabeth Hansons fascinating Discovering the Subject in Renaissance England [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998]). Before long, however, the study of subjects started to be complemented by its inverse partner: the study of objects, things, material cultural.As the editors ofSubjectandObjectin Renaissance Culture(Margreta de Grazia, Maureen Quilligan, and Peter Stallybrass, eds. [Cambridge: Carmbridge University Press, 1996]) put it in the introduction to their seminal anthology, "The purpose of this collection of essays is not to efface the subject but to offset it by insisting that the object be taken into account" (5). Harris and Korda explicitlysituatetheircollectionin thisvein ofcriticism.Theynotewith approval how early modern scholarship has become"obsessed with materiality," and consequently, how "theatrical objects have increasinglyjoined subjects as privileged sites of materialist inquiry" (15). They cite as their forbears such notable critical works as Douglas Bruster's Drama and theMarketin theAge of Shakespeare (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1992), Subject and Object, and Patricia Fumerton and Simon Hunt's anthology, Renaissance Culture and theEveryday(Philadelphia: UniversityofPennsylvania Press, 1999).1 They are also interdisciplinary, as they draw on the anthropologist Arjun Appadurai, whose anthology, The SocialLife ofThings: Commoditiesin CulturalPerspective (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1986) may be called the tutelary spirit of Staged Properties. The second major influence arises from the unhappiness ofhistorians with a good deal of the work that goes under the rubric of"New Historicism." In short, many charged that New Historicism is but bad history writ large.2 Stung by the validityofthis assessment (and perhaps a bit tired with the predictability of many New Historicist readings), several key literary critics reacted by promising to do better by the archives while keeping the insights afforded by literary theory. David Scott Kastan, for example, in his essay "Shakespeare After Theory," called for "a set of interests and procedures more rigorously historical than recent theory-driven studies have been, but that, unlike the old literary history, takes to heart (and mind) the implications of the theoretical 452Comparative Drama movements ofthe last twenty years."3 One result ofthis development has been the new interest in how the seeminglymundane details ofbook production can yield productive insights into the relationships between text and culture.4 The topic and the essays in Staged Properties constitute another result in three ways. First,all ofthese essays are deeply, richlyhistorical.Nobody can say that the contributors have not done their homework. Second, while a number of the contributors engage in a "qualitative analysis of the stuff of material culture" (16), that is, looking at how stage props reflect in complex ways early modern culture, four (Douglas Bruster, Lena Cowen Orlin, Peter Stallybrass, and Natasha Korda) review archival documents of stage history "through a recognizably quantitative lens" (17). Striving for greater authority, these critics turn to statistical analysis, something one rarely sees in literary studies. Finally, while the contributors to Staged Properties are obviously interested in the relations between stage and society,they avoid the tendentious politics (people good, authority bad) that sometimes mars New Historical work. The editors describe the "dominant methodological strain" of New Historicism as seeking "to disclose the contours and faultlines of cultural formations through nuanced accounts ofsynecdochic microdetail" (16),which is rather different from the calls for revolution one sometimes reads. The exploration of early modern stage properties, however, is necessarily burdened by the paucity ofprimarysources. In fact,the amount ofevidence for what props appeared on the stage is amazingly small. Philip Henslowe recorded an "enventary [inventory] of all the properties for my Lord Admeralles men, the 10 ofMarche 1598" (the original is lost),that lists only thirty-five items, and is reproduced in the appendix of Staged Properties. Other...

Marlowe's Theater of Night: Doctor Faustus and Capital

I. Marlowe and Dispossessive Authorship The early modern stage led a double life. It was a site of representation, on which Danish princes, Scythian warriors, alchemists, Egyptian queens, fairies, whores, shoemakers, caesars, shepherdesses, coneycatchers, and gulls played out their imaginary lives. But it was, at the same time, what Karl Marx would call a means of production. When combined with other such means, including stocks of costumes, stage properties, play texts, and so forth, and when set in motion by the human labor of actors, gatherers, prompters, playwrights, and stage hands of various kinds, it produced the cultural commodity known as the performance of a play, from which tidy profits could be and were made. The sum of these theatrical means of production thus constitutes a form of capital. This essay explores the question of whether the stage's status as means of production can be brought into some meaningful relation with its status as site of dramatic representation. To put the matter more simply: what does the stage's somewhat abstract economic function have to do with what concretely transpired on it, in the production of a play? And how did play texts take cognizance of the structures necessary to their economic and artistic realization? Here I shall address one specific kind of labor associated with the early modern stage, that of playwrighting. Christopher Marlowe's Doctor Faustus provides a particularly shrewd and penetrating commentary on the playwright's confrontation with theatrical capital, an abstraction which, for introductory purposes, will be personified by Philip Henslowe. Henslowe, the well-known theatrical impresario, owned the Rose Theatre and served as landlord to the Lord Admiral's Men, who gave the first recorded performances of Doctor Faustus in 1594. We know nothing about Henslowe's business dealings with Marlowe, if any, and I want to explore his importance for Doctor Faustus more indirectly, [End Page 455] by way of his relationship with the minor playwright Robert Daborne. Daborne was a competent but not brilliant professional writer who never achieved theatrical eminence. Only two of his plays have survived, and only one of these was published. He is best known to theater historians for his correspondence with Henslowe, beginning in April 1613. By this time Henslowe had moved his business from the Rose Theatre to the Fortune, and he was in the (at least occasional) practice of buying plays directly from playwrights, either as a factor for an acting company or in order to resell them. On 17 April 1613, Daborne contracts with Henslowe to write a tragedy called Machiavel and the Devil. Daborne will receive 20 pounds, to be paid in installments, and he promises to deliver the completed play by the end of Easter term. On the same day he signs a performance bond for 20 pounds with Henslowe, from which he will be released if he finishes the play by the promised date. At about the time he signs his contract, however, Daborne also becomes entangled in a lawsuit over his estate. The legal proceedings strain Daborne's savings and delay completion of the play until well past the promised date. Most of Daborne's subsequent correspondence with Henslowe consists of pleas for additional cash advances, along with protestations of his good faith and promises to deliver the completed play soon. Typical is a letter of 10 June 1613, in which Daborne writes: "I intended no other thing, god is my judge till this be finished: the necessity of term business exacts me beyond my custom to be troublesome unto you wherefore I pray send me the other 20 s. I desired."1 By 25 July, Daborne has still not completed the play. Upbraided by Henslowe for his tardiness, he responds with a combination of injured pride and abject submission: "[B]efore God I can have twenty-five pounds for it [that is, the play] as some of the company know, but such is my debt to you that so long...

Playing Companies and Commerce in Shakespeare's Time. By Roslyn Lander Knutson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001; pp. x + 198. $54.95 hardcover; Rough Magic: Making Theatre at the Royal Shakespeare Company. By Steven Adler. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 2001; pp. xxii + 272. $50 hardcover, $20 paperback

It's ironic that Shakespeare is in the title of Roslyn Lander Knutson's book, since “Shakespeare” and centuries of Shakespeare scholarship are parts of the problem she is addressing in Playing Companies and Commerce in Shakespeare's Time. Forget everything you think you know, she tells her readers, about the great rivalries of early modern commercial theatre practice. Forget the rivalry between the Lord Admiral's Men and the Lord Chamberlain's/King's Men, between landlords Philip Henslowe and James Burbage, actors Edward Alleyn and Richard Burbage, and their spouses and in-laws and partners. Forget the passage in Hamlet about the “Little Eyases” of the boy companies whose success has forced the adult players to tour Elsinore, the “Rival Traditions” of the populist public theatres and the elitist private ones, and forget, above all, the “War of the Theatres,” the battles of wits in which Ben Jonson and his contemporaries lobbed satiric portraits at one another in rival plays written between 1599 and 1601 for the rival adult and boy companies. These putative rivalries, she explains, are the product of a misguided and self-perpetuating narrative, sculpted in the eighteenth century and cast in bronze in the nineteenth, a narrative that, in part, sought to exceptionalize Shakespeare and the theatre enterprise that nourished both his works and the writer whose genius inspired envy among his contemporary actors, playwrights, and theatre companies, and left them to fight for leftover scraps of business. To support this exceptionalism, Knutson advances a piece of court testimony from 1589–1590 by Edward Alleyn's brother John, testifying how James Burbage quarreled with the widow of his brother-in-law and business partner until his son Richard chased her out with a broom, testimony that morphed into a master narrative of cutthroat personal rivalries and even more cutthroat business practices.

Political Allegory in Late Elizabethan and Early Jacobean "Turk" Plays: Lust's Dominion and The Turke

Recent work on representations of in early modern literature and culture has shown the often complex and contradictory ways in which the English understood Muslim peoples at this time. (1) As Nabil Matar observes, were seen to be different and strange, infidels and 'barbarians' admirable or fearsome, but they did not constitute colonial targets. (2) In fact, it is precisely because Muslims possessed an empire that rivaled, indeed superseded that of England in this period that Britons began to demonize, polarize, and alterize them. (3) As a result, though English travelers in Islamic countries--for example, Thomas Saunders in his account of a trip to Barbarie in 1583, Richard Hasleton's narrative of ten yeares travailes in many forraine countries which was published in 1595, and the more famous early-seventeenth-century accounts of encounters with Muslims by George Sandys and William Lithgow--might describe with some admiration and envy the imperial achievement of the Ottoman Empire, by contrast early modern drama, pageants, and masques tended to emphasize negative characteristics. (4) Turks were tyrannical and cruel, Moors were lascivious and violent. (5) As a result critics have read literary representations of Muslims as playing an important role in the shaping of an anti-Muslim national consciousness. The present essay, however, suggests that this dominant view of early modern plays only provides us with a partial understanding of the significance of these cultural documents. Lust's Dominion and John Mason's The Turke are both plays that portray Islamic men in negative ways, and clearly they should be seen as contributing to contemporary popular fears and anxieties about Muslims. However, to read these plays merely as expressions of anti-Muslim sentiment is to neglect central aspects of their significance since the plays' Islamic villains and the activities in Christian courts that prove to be corrupt also must refer to domestic English political issues. In what follows, the two closely related early modern English Turk plays, Lust's Dominion and The Turke, are read against the context of the politics of the culture within which they were produced. Similar to other dramatic subgenres of the period--Roman plays, history plays, travel drama, to name just three--which have increasingly been recognized as possessing allegorical dimensions, Turk plays should also be seen as offering comments on sensitive topical issues. (6) For instance, Ben Jonson's Sejanus His Fall (1603), which concentrates on the relationship between the Emperor Tiberius and his evil minion, has been read as an equivocal allegory about James Stuart and his favorites. (7) Yet, because it was conceived and partly written while Elizabeth was on the throne, Jonson's play has also been seen as a comment on her tarnished reputation at the end of her reign and especially as a late meditation on the Essex crisis. (8) While for my purposes here the intricacies of Jonson's allegory are not relevant, its ambivalent political direction is useful since it is in a sense matched by that of the plays discussed in this article. In other words, in Lust's Dominion and The Turke we have two versions--one written in Elizabeth's reign, one in James's--of a very similar story about an evil Mohammedan's interactions with a Christian court. In what follows, the ways this allied story is able to encode shifting political allegories will be seen to be central. Just as Sejanus can be read as allegorically directed at different targets, these plays should also be understood to present political and sexual ambition as covert meditations on English domestic concerns. It is now well attested that Christopher Marlowe was not responsible for Lust's Dominion; or, The Lascivious Queen, though the play is attributed to him on the title page of the 1657 edition. (9) Rather, the playtext is thought to have involved collaboration by John Marston (who was paid for a play or part of a play called The Spanish Moor's Tragedy by Philip Henslowe in the autumn of 1599 for the Fortune or Rose) and Thomas Dekker, William Haughton, and John Day who revised and renamed it in 1600. …

Early Modern Collaboration and Theories of Authorship

About halfway through the 1998 filmshakespeare in love, a group of players and hired extras, under the critical eye of the theater owner Philip Henslowe, begins rehearsing a new play at the Rose. While Henslowe observes the process with a simultaneously proprietary and befuddled air, his financial backer, the apothecary Fennyman, comes to ask him about the play's progress. Suddenly Fennyman notices a tall, handsome figure bustling about, shouting both instructions and thanks. “Who is that?” the skeptical Fennyman asks. The movie audience knows that it is Marc Norman and Tom Stoppard's version of Will Shakespeare, assembling the cast for his play. “Nobody,” replies Henslowe. “The author” (Norman and Stoppard 49-50).

Early Modern Collaboration and Theories of Authorship

About halfway through the 1998 filmshakespeare in love, a group of players and hired extras, under the critical eye of the theater owner Philip Henslowe, begins rehearsing a new play at the Rose. While Henslowe observes the process with a simultaneously proprietary and befuddled air, his financial backer, the apothecary Fennyman, comes to ask him about the play's progress. Suddenly Fennyman notices a tall, handsome figure bustling about, shouting both instructions and thanks. “Who is that?” the skeptical Fennyman asks. The movie audience knows that it is Marc Norman and Tom Stoppard's version of Will Shakespeare, assembling the cast for his play. “Nobody,” replies Henslowe. “The author” (Norman and Stoppard 49-50).

The Shakespearian playing companies

The Shakespearian Playing Companies is the first history of the professional acting companies who brought drama to London in Shakespeare's time. Andrew Gurr's ground-breaking book draws on the most up-to-date research to provide a general history of company development from the 1560s, when the first of the major companies belonging to great lords began regularly to offer their plays at court and in London, to 1642, when by Act of Parliament they were closed down. Only in London were the playing companies able to secure purpose-built premises (such as The Globe or The Fortune), and to foster a thriving theatrical and literary culture (in direct contrast to much of the rest of England, which was overtly hostile to professional theatre). In the second part of the volume, the reader will find detailed and fascinating accounts of each of the forty companies that played in London during the period, including Shakespeare's company, The Chamberlain's/King's Men. Although professional playing was very much a collective endeavour, remarkable individuals emerge, from impresarios such as Philip Henslowe, Christopher Beeston, Richard Gunnell, and Richard Heton to stars like Richard Burbage and Edward Alleyn. Thoroughly grounding his discussion in the highly mobile social and political historical context, Gurr focuses on the plays themselves and the distinctive repertory traditions that led the different companies to stage them. These companies, and the growth of the London theatrical culture, are the factors which helped produce Shakespeare and to put into practice Shakespearian conceptions of drama. This fascinating and authoritative volume will take its place as an indispensable reference work and the authoritative history for all scholars and students of Renaissance - and Shakespearian - drama.

Philip Henslowe, Simon Forman, and the Theatrical Community of the 1590s

FOLIOS 16V TO 18V OF PHILIP HENSLOWE S DIARY PUZZLE READERS. Sandwiched between the receipts and payments involving theatrical matters that typify his account book are five pages of oddities-medicinal recipes guaranteed to cure deafness, cataracts, and rabies; formulae for casting a child's horoscope; and magic spells, one of which, for the person in pursuit of a simple supper, promised to make a fowl fall down. It is in these pages that readers are especially reminded that much personal business actually informs the diary, and it is here that Henslowe comes to the fore of his account book as an individual cut wholly of Renaissance cloth. Astrological almanacs, as well as books of predictions, were common in Henslowe's day, when conjurers-in-earnest, side by side with quack psychics, attracted followings of workaday citizens who sought what wisdom could be derived from occult practices. At the time, perhaps the best-known astrologerconjurer was Simon Forman, whose surviving casebooks read like a social register of Renaissance London. The earl of Cumberland, the countess of Essex, and Lord Hunsdon (patron of the Lord Chamberlain's Men) all consulted Forman at one time or another. Not least of all, another of Forman's clients was Philip Henslowe, the owner of the Rose playhouse and the father-in-law of Edward Alleyn, the actor who immortalized his own version of a conjurer in the character of Doctor Faustus on the stage of the Rose playhouse in the early 1590s. Henslowe's association with Forman was suggested in 1976 when A. L. Rowse published The Case Books of Simon Forman. Rowse then noted in passing that Henslowe had visited Forman on two occasions, but Rowse did not follow up on these notations.' Probably because Rowse's interest centered upon the general connection between the doubtful reputation of theatrical personnel with Forman's own questionable reputation, he overlooked the full importance of the Henslowe entries for theater historians. These deserve much greater attention. Forman's notes provide new and unique insights into the rapidly growing group of theater entrepreneurs of the 1590s, including the Burbages. They allow scholars to understand in greater complexity Henslowe's place within the theatrical community and to date part of Henslowe's diary for the first time. Furthermore, examination of the connection between Forman and Henslowe suggests a link between Forman and the character of Doctor Faustus which seems to have become lost in the discussion of Forman's influence on Ben Jonson's Alchemist. In addition to all this, Forman's casebooks provide unique evidence illustrating how the community of players who performed at the Rose and the Globe playhouses were tied into the culture of the occult.

Building the Fortune

THE INTERNATIONAL SHAKESPEARE GLOBE CENTRE HAS as one of its main aims the reconstruction of the first Globe playhouse close to its original site. As principal historical adviser to the architect, I have tried to ensure that the building currently going up on Bankside is as like the original as can be, though anyone familiar with the difficulties, both philosophical and technical, that bristle from such an enterprise will know that its success can only be a matter of degree. One must wryly concede that Shakespeare's own theater exists only in the mud beneath the Anchor Brewery site, and our reconstruction will be something else. But if we are to do it at all, we must do it well. We need to know everything that the archaeologists can tell us, and everything too that can be found among the documents. To that end I have made a study of the building accounts of the Fortune playhouse, erected in 1600 by Peter Street, the carpenter who had-most would agree-spent part of the previous year putting up the Globe. It is well known that the contract for the Fortune cites the Globe as Street's model, to be followed in this or that particular in matters of specification and design. What we can learn about the building process at the Fortune site in Golden Lane may therefore have useful implications for our understanding of the Globe and may help direct its reconstruction. On 8 January 1600, Edward Alleyn and Philip Henslowe signed their famous contract for the Fortune, agreeing with Street to pay him ?440 for the construction and partial finishing of its timber frame, the job to be completed by 25 July. The playhouse was up and working before the end of the year, for the Admiral's Men began their winter season there between 11 November and 14 December.' Besides the contract itself, we have three sets of accounts connected with the erection of the building: a series of notes mainly in Henslowe's hand, written on the back of the contract and dated from 8 January to 11 June; an itemized record of dimensioned timber, undated but for one entry of 2 August; and an entertainment account mostly listing Henslowe's breakfasts and dinners with the builder between 24 May and 8 August.2 These documents show that the building process began as soon as the contract had been signed, and that it continued through the spring and early summer; but they are not very clear about the date of completion. Sums were advanced to Street and to others, usually on

Drama and the Market in the Age of Shakespeare by Douglas Bruster

Reviews479 myself. My only comfort now is Buddha, who tells me clearly that life is a phantasm, a Trugbild, which we shall see the right way round in another life. My hope and my future lie on the other side, that is why I find life so hard to bear; everything here falls short and mocks one; it should only be seen from afar. This morning I saw my landscape from my desk, you know the one, bathed in sunlight and so divinely beautiful that I was overcome with ecstasy. I wanted to go down and take a closer look; but then it disappeared behind the hills, and when I came nearer, it was no longer the same!! What one seeks, eludes one! (p. 722) In several letters to Bosse from the fall of 1905, Strindberg reflects upon their destiny, their inability to communicate, and, in particular, his own failure to make her understand the true nature of the cosmos, their place and their mission within it. A human life trails behind it the roots of many ancestral trees, and many of them are bared in these two volumes. The selection is a work of quality and distinction which in this case appropriately raises many central questions. It is a critical edition of very special interest to English and American Strindberg scholarship, especially as it focuses on the elusive and mysterious psychological landscape of a poet and on his work. The collection is also of genuine importance to the field of drama and theater in general. GORAN STOCKENSTRÖM University of Minnesota Douglas Bruster. Drama and the Market in the Age of Shakespeare. Cambridge Studies in Renaissance Literature and Culture, 1. Cambridge : Cambridge University Press, 1992. Pp.xv + 164. $39.95. The first part of Douglas Bruster's book relates the development of the theaters in the age of Shakespeare to the rapid cultural, economic , and political changes then taking place. It presents a general view of the drama between about 1590 and 1620 as shaped by market forces, and as offering a "materialist vision" (p. 38). Plays are to be thought of as "dramatic commodities" (p. 4) for consumption; the theaters are viewed as markets, places of business; and the dramatists write as if they were social scientists attempting to "reconcile the social tensions inherent in the economic base of England's evolving society through an explication of the new forms of social transaction" (p. 40). The mode of the book, in other words, is cultural materialist and postmodernist . The playwright, indeed, drops out of sight at times as the drama takes on a life of its own, evaluating "the socioeconomic transformation of Renaissance culture" (p. 37). The drama becomes an agent, independent of the author and "itself inventing answers to questions of special social import" (p. 17). Audiences, not entrepreneurs, 480Comparative Drama "sponsored the construction" of the playhouses (p. 21), and Philip Henslowe reverts to being a ruthless capitalist with an "obsessive concern over profit and commodity" (p. 26)—like everybody else in Bruster 's London, only more so. The popular theater was "of course, entirely commercial" (p. 25), and it seems as if London in 1600 was anticipating today's Hollywood, a kind of Elizabethan tinseltown. For some time now a shift has been taking place in our understanding of theater practices in the period. Philip Henslowe was for long demonized as an unscrupulous moneylender, whose grubby commercial operations were seen as far removed from those of Shakespeare's company , as if the Chamberlain's Men were solely devoted to Art and Morality. It is now becoming generally accepted that the acting companies operated in similar ways and were all concerned to make a profit. Bruster, pressing towards a more radical version of the stage as marketplace, sees the theaters as products of an age of commodity fetishism and the drama as conditioned by a "historically determined" concern with the social order (p. 38). This concern is exemplified in the last four chapters of this short book: one deals with cuckoldry as a "central constituent in London's theatrical grammar of cultural exchange " (p. 49); a second argues that farce was written to explore the "social implications...

Sussex's Men in 1594: The Evidence of Titus Andronicus and The Jew of Malta

In 1594, as stability was about to return to the London stage after several years of disruption, a company under the patronage of the fifth Earl of Sussex played two brief engagements at Philip Henslowe's theatre, the Rose. Historians of the Elizabethan stage have had little to say about Sussex's men, for although the company appears fairly regularly in performance records of the 1590s, and although Henslowe's Diary lists their day-by-day repertory for a few weeks in 1594, their plays do not seem to have formed an important part of the Elizabethan drama (only George a Greene survives as a piece attributable solely to Sussex's men), and their personnel do not seem to have aroused sufficient interest to leave any record of an actor's name after 1576. Yet there may be a story to tell about Sussex's men after all. If we look closely at their repertory of 1594, keeping in mind the affairs of other companies at this time, we can see that the Sussex company may have briefly included some of the most important figures of the Elizabethan theatre.

REVISING PHILIP HENSLOWE'S BIOGRAPHY

REVISING PHILIP HENSLOWE'S BIOGRAPHY Get access S. P. CERASANO S. P. CERASANO Colgate University Search for other works by this author on: Oxford Academic Google Scholar Notes and Queries, Volume 32, Issue 1, March 1985, Pages 66–72, https://doi.org/10.1093/nq/32-1-66 Published: 01 March 1985

Production Finance at the Rose Theatre, 1596–98

One of the most consistently overlooked topics in Elizabethan theatre history is the internal organization of the acting companies. Modern scholarship has considerably enlarged our knowledge of the public and private playhouses, and of certain aspects of acting and staging, but we remain woefully ignorant of the way in which the actors went about the actual business of producing their plays. Our ignorance in these matters is the more surprising in that a substantial amount of primary evidence relating to production management and finance has long been known to exist in the so-called ‘diary’ and papers of Philip Henslowe and Edward Alleyn. Whereas the relatively less accessible material relating to the theatres has been subjected to increasingly sophisticated analysis by various commentators in this century, Henslowe's diary remains a curiously neglected document.

Records of early english drama and the computer

Publisher Summary This chapter discusses the role of computer in the preservation of records of early English drama. Since 1790, when Edmond Malone printed excerpts from the diary of Philip Henslowe, the major Elizabethan theater owner, literary antiquarians, and theater historians have eagerly searched for early English dramatic records. After the Malone Society was founded in 1907, partly to publish records of the professional theaters of Renaissance London, much information became available in its collections volumes, but many medieval provincial records were left unedited. In 1975, Records of Early English Drama (REED) was created by a team of researchers to edit and index documentary evidence for all performance and performers of drama, minstrelsy, and ceremony throughout Great Britain from the beginnings to 1642. Computer technology has already been helpful in editing. A Toronto program, Concordance Generation System (COGS), has produced, for the volumes of the York and Chester records, concordances that have been invaluable in verifying, glossing, and indexing texts by hand.

The Reputation of Philip Henslowe

The Reputation of Philip Henslowe

Shylock and Philip Henslowe

Shylock and Philip Henslowe

Philip Henslowe

Philip Henslowe Get access C. L'estrance Ewen C. L'estrance Ewen Search for other works by this author on: Oxford Academic Google Scholar Notes and Queries, Volume CLXXI, Issue jul25, 25 July 1936, Page 61, https://doi.org/10.1093/nq/CLXXI.jul25.61b Published: 25 July 1936